Post-Reichenbach: A Play
by roxy3210
Summary: A continuation after The Reichenbach Fall. Written for my English class. NEED HELP! It is not finished, so it's open to suggestions on plot/dialogue/characters and critiques.


Characters

John, middle-aged male suffering from the death of his best friend

Ella, John's therapist

Act I, Scene I

ELLA

You need to say it. Out loud.

(leans forward in chair)

JOHN

He's dead.

ELLA

Who, John?

JOHN

My best friend Sherlock Holmes is dead.

ELLA

And how did he die?

JOHN

He jumped.

ELLA

(leans back into chair)

How do you feel now, John?

JOHN

Go to hell.

ELLA

You've certainly been there and back, haven't you? For eighteen months I haven't seen my favorite army doctor. What have you been doing since then?

JOHN

Oh you know, just living it up. Having the time of my life. Not having a care in the world.

ELLA

Eighteen months couldn't have made you stubborn.

JOHN

My best friend's death made me numb.

ELLA

Good. I mean, not good, obviously. Good that we're getting somewhere.

John, we can't go back to you having trust issues with me. I need you to be more open.

JOHN

I'm more open in my blog. Don't you read it? You were the one who advised me to start one.

ELLA

I've read your latest post. But why talk to a computer screen instead of your own therapist?

JOHN

You're kidding.

ELLA

John.

JOHN

Because I don't want to cry in front of my therapist, or any adult, liked a goddamned child.

(He closes his eyes, blows out a deep breath.)

ELLA

How much human interaction have you had since his death?

JOHN

I've only talked with Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson, and possibly the cashier at the supermarket when I went to get some milk.

ELLA

The Detective Inspector and your housekeeper, correct?

JOHN

Landlady, not housekeeper.

(He smiles, remembering something)

ELLA

I was wondering where your smile went. Now, the DI and Mrs. Hudson- they're helping you cope?

JOHN

They're mourning too. But I suppose...they make the days go by faster.

ELLA

You want the days to go by faster?

JOHN

I'm just saying that I don't want to keep dragging my feet everywhere I go, everyday.

ELLA

You mean you want to forget about Sherlock?

JOHN

God, no. Not forget about him completely. Just...I don't want to think about him as often.

ELLA

How often do you think about him?

JOHN

Every second of every day.

ELLA

The man you're missing proved to be a fake. Can you imagine someone building up a facade for themselves? Every crime he's solved, every deduction he's made, every victim and every witness-he's made them all up. They're all fictitious. All to look good. How does that make you feel, knowing that your best friend lied you? Did he do it to make himself seem...cool? I believe you said one time that he's never had any real friends.

JOHN

I thought you were on my side.

ELLA

I didn't say that that was what I believed. It's what I gathered from reading the news and watching the telly.

(she pulls out a newspaper clipper with the heading, "Suicide of Fake Genius")

JOHN

First off, if the news means that his intelligence was fake, then that is certainly untrue. He can deduce that a woman is part of an unhappy marriage by how her ring is placed on her finger. He can watch the Maury Show and instantly determine that the guy is not the father just by looking at the turn-ups on his jeans. He can tell where a person has been and how long they've been there by looking at the heels of their shoes or their shoelaces. He's enthusiastic about what he can do, he's clever, he's passionate, he's sharp, he's-

ELLA

-cunning, crafty, shady as well? He could've used that intelligence to create scandals, crimes, cases that only he could solve.

JOHN

Sherlock was a good man. From past sessions with you, I admit saying that I believed he was just a machine with legs. But living with him and solving cases with him had made me realize just how he was the most human...human I've ever met. All I can really say is that I know him, I trust him, and I believe in him.

ELLA

'I believe in Sherlock Holmes. Moriarty was real.' That's what you put in your recent blog. Rumour has it that Jim Moriarty was just a man named Richard Brook who was hired by Sherlock to be the "bad guy." What do you have to say about Moriarty?

JOHN

Moriarty was real. He was a criminal, a murderer, and a psychopath. He was a lot like Sherlock in so many ways but he wanted to come at the top. Eventually he made the public believe that Sherlock was a fraud. He made them believe Sherlock threatened him into becoming Moriarty.

ELLA

Right before Sherlock jumped, Moriarty killed himself. Why?

JOHN

Moriarty didn't kill himself. Moriarty killed Richard Brook.

(leans forward in chair)

Listen, nothing about what is being said about Sherlock is true. He was a real detective who solved real crimes. Moriarty is the one hiring people to be him and killing them off when he believes that they don't have much use anymore. Moriarty made Richard Brook kill himself.

ELLA

He 'is' the one hiring people? Meaning...

JOHN

The real Moriarty is out there alive. And I'm going to find him. The real him.

Act I, Scene II

(_A few tombstones neatly scatter the grass on a hill. The steeple of a church can be made out in the distance. The ambiance is quiet, with the occasional bird chirping, rustling of leaves, and the scheduled ringing of a church bell. John, with his hands tucked in his pockets and a small bouquet of tulips tucked under his right arm, stands a few feet away from one particular headstone, facing it._)

JOHN

I came back from another therapy session today. The first one in so many months. I got so riled up after it and started walking aimlessly around the city, not thinking about where I was supposed to go, but more on what I'm supposed to do. I need to find Moriarty but I don't even know where to start.

(Gives a small chuckle and kicks at a nearby pebble)

I could just see you now, rolling around in your grave and wanting to scold me for being so unorganized and distracted. But then you'd stray from the scolding and start to delicately construct a way to figure out where Moriarty is. You would be right next to me as you voice your plan and I'd probably be lost halfway through it. But then you'd tell me that you've got it down and that despite the fact that we could possibly be killed in the process, it'll turn out alright in the end. 'Or not,' you'd add casually. And then you'd tell me that once we're done with Moriarty, I can write all about it in my blog like I always do after every case. And so I'd agree and throw you your coat. You'd wrap your scarf around your neck and turn your coat collars up. I'd roll my eyes because of your attempt to look cool. I'd put on my own coat and we'd walk into the city.

(Turns his head and looks towards the city below for a few minutes. The wrapping of the bouquet under his arm crackles as he turns back)

Oh! These are for you.

I bumped into Mrs. Hudson a few blocks away. She was heading over here with these flowers for you. She said she was late for a meeting so I insisted that I take the flowers. The thing is is that I didn't even realize that I was walking towards the graveyard. Towards you. Somehow I always end up back here.

(Places the bouquet in front of the headstone. Exits)

Act IV, Scene I

_(It's raining, making the ground of the cemetery soft and muddy. There is a note attached to Sherlock's grave stone, fluttering as the wind hits it. John, with an umbrella over his head, notices it.)_

JOHN

(approaches the gravestone, slows as he gets nearer, his eyebrows furrow)

Someone was just here._I _was just here, but someone...someone else...

(whirls around, looks around, bends down)

These are not my footprints. Who could've...

(Rips the note off the tombstone, starts to read it aloud)

"Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep."

(drops the umbrella, frequently blinks as the raindrops hit his eyes)

"I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain."

(wipes cheek)

"When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush. Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die."

Act IV, Scene II

_(Pieces of furniture symmetrically make up the wide room. Crystal chandeliers dangle from ornately painted ceilings. A red patterned rug covers almost the whole floor and stands out brightly against the goldenrod-tinted walls. Pictures of past monarchs line the walls. Sherlock, with hands clasped behind his back, stands near a window and looks out. Mycroft, Sherlock's older brother, sits on a couch a few feet away.)_

MYCROFT

Perhaps now would be the best time to-

SHERLOCK

That wouldn't be the wisest idea.

MYCROFT

You're back in London, Sherlock. You might as well go and see-

SHERLOCK

I didn't come back because my job was finished. I came back because the last of Moriarty's men, or even Moriarty himself, is here.

MYCROFT

British Intelligence has got the best surveillance. I should know. I'm part of-

SHERLOCK

It's useless if you don't know exactly who to look for.

MYCROFT

(huffs)

Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

Mycroft.

MYCROFT

(smirks)

Stubborn as always. You haven't changed.

SHERLOCK

I missed you too, brother.

MYCROFT

I'm trying to help you find Moriarty. You're so close to bringing down his web of henchmen. In the meantime, go to John.

SHERLOCK

And do what?

MYCROFT

Telling him you're alive after being presumed dead for a year would be a good start to a conversation.

SHERLOCK

And risk his life even more? I had to fake my own murder to save my friends because that's how Moriarty likes to play his games. When he's not comparing his intellect with mine, he finds a way to toy with your emotions and that's how decides to defeat you. He told me that if I didn't jump off the roof he'd have John, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade killed on the spot. Popping my head in at 221 B Baker street to say hi to John...that wouldn't be safe...not until I take out the last of Moriarty. Letting him know I'm alive...I can't...shouldn't have...

(puts head in hands)

MYCROFT

What is it?

SHERLOCK

I've done just that. I don't know what came over me. I went to my grave and left John a note.

MYCROFT

And here you are telling _me _that my actions are no good. What did you put in the note?

SHERLOCK

It had one of Mary Elizabeth Frye's work. A poem that suggested I wasn't dead.

MYCROFT

If I remember that piece correctly, it can suggest that the speaker is, actually dead, but that his spirit is still living. Therefore, depending on how John interprets it, he may either believe that you wrote the note and that you are actually alive, or he may believe that someone else wrote it to...cheer him up, perhaps? You know how sentimental people can be.

SHERLOCK

I'll have to somehow let John know that someone else wrote the note, as a means of sympathy or even as a joke.

MYCROFT

That'll hurt him even more.

SHERLOCK

I'd rather that than see him lying in his own pool of blood.


End file.
